


Playing With Fire

by Aini_NuFire



Series: Feathers and Flames [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Castiel in the Bunker, Charlie Lives, Episode: s10e18 Book of the Damned, Episode: s10e21 Dark Dynasty, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Castiel, Kidnapped Dean, Season/Series 10, episode AU, family in the bunker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-04 13:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10279556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aini_NuFire/pseuds/Aini_NuFire
Summary: When Charlie unearths the Book of the Damned, she draws the attention of the notorious Styne family, who will stop at nothing to get it back. And even with the help of an angel and a phoenix, the Winchesters might have bitten off more than they can chew…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, so Ryn is back in a sequel to "A Fire Shall Be Woken"! I just have to say thanks again to everyone who cheered on this OC; otherwise I might not have continued the series. And I am very excited about where it's going. So without further ado, let's kick off this fic!
> 
> Disclaimer: The guys and Charlie aren't mine. Some lines from 10x18 "Book of the Damned," and 10x21 "Dark Dynasty" are in this fic. They're not mine either. Thanks to 29Pieces for brainstorming and beta reading!
> 
> PS: I have joined tumblr. Still not entirely sure what I'm doing there, lol. But come say hi if you want to connect. Name is aini-nufire.

 

Dean clicked through a couple of links on his laptop's browser page, scanning the latest uploads of animated Japanese erotica episodes. He was mostly caught up, as being a demon hadn't squelched his enjoyment of the genre, though he had to admit there was a different note to the recreation when he'd been, well, evil.

But now that the Mark was gone and things were calm, he could sit back with a burger and HD streaming and just…relax. The world wasn't in peril, neither were he, Sam, or Cas. Things were finally _good_.

Heavy footsteps came into the library. "Dude, can't you watch that in your room?"

"Don't be a hater, Sammy."

He heard his brother let out a soft snort. "Have you heard from Cas?" Sam asked.

Dean hit pause. "Yeah. He and Ryn finally picked up his car and are on their way back." He shook his head. "I can't believe they friggin' _walked_ to Ohio."

Dean knew those two wanted to take some time to work things out now that Cas had gotten his memories back and wasn't dying from stolen grace, and a road trip to retrieve his car had seemed like a good way to do it. But seriously, walking across several states? Who did that?

An angel and a phoenix, apparently.

Sam dropped himself into the chair across from Dean. "He say how things were going?"

Dean shrugged. "He didn't go into detail, though it sounded like he was enjoying it. Said something about how the stars here are different than in Egypt."

Sam's lips twitched. "They're stargazing?" He quirked a dubious brow. "How…romantic."

Yeah, and wasn't that just weird to think about. Cas had a girlfriend. Or, well, he and Ryn had something. They'd gone on this little trip to figure out exactly what that might be, given they hadn't seen each other in five thousand years and Cas's memories of her had been erased by that bitch Naomi. Not only was it strange to think of Cas in a relationship, but with the Alpha phoenix, no less.

Ryn was cool, though. She'd helped them remove the Mark from Dean, risking herself to do it. Had helped them find Cas's grace and save him. She loved Cas. And Dean was pretty sure Cas loved her, even if the angel didn't fully understand it yet. Human emotions were still somewhat of an enigma to him.

But Cas deserved to be happy, and Dean wanted this for him, if it was what Cas wanted. It'd just mean their family unit would have to grow.

His phone rang, and Dean glanced at the unknown number. "Winchester Accounting," he answered. "How may I help you?"

"Dean?" a small, tremulous voice replied.

He straightened. "Charlie? What's going on? Where are you?"

"Uh, uh, I'm exhausted and…and I'm bleeding."

_What?_

"And I'm in a phone booth. A phone booth. I didn't know these things existed outside of Bill and Ted's…"

Dean hit the speaker button and set the phone on the table. "Okay, hey, hey," he said, cutting off her rambling. "Take a deep breath, kiddo. Uh, we're both sitting here. Tell me what happened. Why are you bleeding?"

Sam's brows flew upward, and he leaned forward over the phone.

"I, uh, I got shot," Charlie stammered. "Did you know dental floss works great on stitches? I only passed out twice, and I'm pretty sure my wound is now minty fresh."

Dean and Sam exchanged a horrified look. How the hell had Charlie gotten _shot_? Dean's mind started racing with possibilities—where had she been shot? Was it a graze, a through-and-through? Or was she walking around with a bullet inside her?

"Charlie," Sam said earnestly, "you probably need to go to a hospital."

"No, no, I-I'm fine. I just got to get someplace safe. These guys are still after me."

Dean felt a new thrill of fear.

"What guys?" Sam pressed. "Who?"

"Some southern fried d-bags," she bit out. "They've been after me since I dug up The Book of the Damned."

Sam sputtered. "You were still looking for it? But we cured Dean of the Mark."

"Yeah, well, it didn't seem like the type of thing that should be left for other unsavory people to find, you know?" Charlie replied shakily. "After some near misses and some broken into museums, I found historical documents that led to a monastery in Spain. It burned down years ago, left for dead, but, uh, I had this hunch about it. Turned out I was right."

Dean shook his head in awe. "Charlie, you're a genius."

"A genius fugitive," she said, a tremor of fear seeping through. "I…these dudes following me, they are well trained. One of them keeps talking about his family."

"Family?" Dean repeated. "Did you get a name?" Whoever these SOBs were, Dean was going to find them and stop them.

Charlie made a pained noise, like sucking air through her teeth. "No clue. I- I spotted a tattoo on one of them. Might be a family crest. It seemed occulty. Soon as the book was out of the ground, they were all over me. I, uh…I don't know how much more running I got left in me. Th-they're tracking the book somehow."

Shit, that wasn't good.

"Alright, then we need to get you off the grid, Charlie," Sam said. "Where are you right now?"

"Uh, just south of Des Moines."

Dean immediately started processing that, running through his mental files of the area. "Uh, okay, you know what? Our- our friend, Bobby, has a whole bunch of cabins scattered all around, places for hunters to crash. You know, it's not much, but there's some gear and lore books, stuff to keep you busy till we get there."

"Okay," Charlie breathed. "Bring snacks," she added. "And some heavy duty Men of Letters artillery would be good, too. This book is old and scary, and I've never seen anything like it."

Dean's stomach clenched. "Just get safe. We'll be there soon." He waited for the click of Charlie hanging up, fear spiking once the connection was gone. He had to hope she'd make it to the cabin, that these mooks wouldn't catch up to her before he and Sam could.

Dean snatched up his phone and pulled up his contacts.

"Dean?" Sam queried.

"Cas and Ryn are closer," he replied, punching the angel's number.

* * *

Castiel leaned against the hood of his Continental, head craned back to look at the night sky. Out on a back road, miles from the nearest town, the light pollution was minimal, and the black canvas was bespeckled with hundreds of glittering shards ranging across the light spectrum like shattered prisms to an angel's eye.

When he and Ryn had first set out on this trip, they had stopped at night to sit and gaze at the stars. Neither needed sleep the same way humans did, and they could have walked straight through to Ohio from Kansas if they'd wanted, but it was nice to stop, to take a moment out of time, away from everything, and just…be. Like they had done all those centuries ago in Ancient Egypt.

Castiel needed these moments of stillness to process everything that had happened recently—getting his grace back, getting the memories Naomi had taken from him back. Seeing Ryn again, after all this time. Every night they stopped to look at the stars, and Castiel marveled. Because he was alive. Because Dean was cured of the Mark. Because every time Castiel looked at Ryn, he was filled with overwhelming emotion. Not unlike what he felt for Sam and Dean—fondness, loyalty…love.

Yes, he would call it that. Hesitantly. Angels were not meant to feel love in that way. But Castiel had been human for a time, and the depth and breadth of emotions he'd felt then had only amplified what was buried deep down under the surface. Looking back with his memories intact of those first few years of a blossoming friendship with Ryn, Castiel now saw how something else had been growing between them. He just hadn't understood what it was at the time. Now he did. And regardless of getting his grace back, he could never go back to the way he was before.

…he didn't want to.

Castiel flicked his gaze to the side, and started at finding Ryn watching him instead of the heavens. "What?" he asked, suddenly self-conscious. Ryn had a way of seeing past his defenses.

She just shook her head, mouth quirked upward. "It's nice to see you smiling."

Was he smiling? Yes, now that his mouth turned down in a thoughtful moue, he realized he had been.

"Our time together these past several days…" he began tentatively. "I've enjoyed it."

Ryn nodded slowly in agreement, but didn't say anything. Her eyes were full of compassion and patience, waiting.

Castiel cleared his throat. "We'll be back in Lebanon soon."

She was quiet for another moment, gaze drifting back up to the stars before back to his. "I should check on things at my cabin."

Castiel nodded. He wasn't sure what he'd been hoping she'd say. He didn't even know what he wanted to ask.

"Cas, what do you want?"

He frowned. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "Everything is…it's so new, yet so familiar at the same time." It was frankly confusing.

She nodded as though she understood. "That's okay."

"I feel as though it's not fair to you."

The corners of her mouth tugged upward again. "You know, one thing about being immortal—you know patience. I'm not going to ask anything of you before you're ready." She sighed. "I don't even know what this—" she gestured between them, "—would look like. The world isn't the same as it was in Egypt. It's smaller, and in some ways more dangerous."

Castiel dropped his gaze. That was true. And the two of them weren't the same, either. "I- I don't want to walk away."

Ryn gave him a warm smile and reached out to take his hand. The contact sent a spark of energy all the way down to his grace. "Neither do I."

Castiel sighed. "The truth is, without an Apocalypse, war, or the fate of the world hanging in the balance…I don't actually know what to do with myself. I- I have no mission."

"Except to look after Sam and Dean," she suggested neutrally.

"Well, they do often find trouble," Castiel admitted. "And I want to be there to help them, if I can."

Ryn pursed her lips thoughtfully for a prolonged moment. "I know it's a strange concept for angels," she started slowly, "but you can have both."

Castiel pressed his mouth into a contemplative line. Dean had told him the same, but it _was_ a strange concept for him. He also thought about what Dean had said, about 'taking things slow' with Ryn. About Castiel taking a weekend to go visit her in Montana…of her coming down to visit him in the bunker. Not unlike how their friendship had developed all those years ago in Egypt—stolen moments between Castiel's missions for Heaven. It seemed a good starting place, to pick up where they'd left off in some ways.

"I'll give you a ride back to Montana," Castiel said. "And, well, I didn't get a chance to see much of your home when I was there last."

Because he'd been caught in some angel warding and Ryn had pointed a crossbow at him for trespassing.

A smirk tugged at her lips, likely remembering as well. "I don't have any goats this time."

Castiel felt his cheeks flush hotly. "I'm not as…awkward, as I used to be." After his time spent as a human, there was little about their ways that Castiel felt embarrassed by. Though, the idea of attempting to milk a goat again was not very appealing.

She grinned, and Castiel couldn't decide whether to feel indignant or to simply revel in the way it made her eyes dance with reflected starlight.

His phone rang, disrupting the moment. Castiel gave Ryn an apologetic look as he dug his cell out and answered. "Hello."

"Hey, Cas," Dean said. "Sorry to interrupt the honeymoon, but we need your help."

Castiel frowned, and was about to point out that he and Ryn had not gotten married, but instead latched onto the latter phrase and thread of borderline panic in Dean's voice. "What's wrong?"

"We told you about our friend Charlie? Well, she's in trouble, and if you're still in Missouri, then you're closer to where she is."

Castiel sifted through his memories to draw up an old conversation with Sam and Dean about a 'computer geek' and a case involving something called 'LARPing.' Little of it had made sense to Castiel, except the obvious fondness the Winchesters held toward this Charlie Bradbury.

"What kind of trouble?" he asked, flicking a look at Ryn, who was watching intently and likely listening in.

"She said she found this thing called the Book of the Damned," Dean replied. "And now some crazy guys are after her. She's hurt, too. We told her to get to one of Bobby's cabins, but me 'n Sam are at least six hours away. Please tell me you're still near Iowa."

"Yes, we're right along the border," Castiel said, head reeling at the mention of the Book of the Damned. That was not a trifle object to be carrying around.

Dean let out a breath of obvious relief. "Okay. Okay, good. You can help, right?"

"Of course," Castiel responded automatically.

Dean relayed the location of the cabin Charlie was headed to. "I don't know who's after her, so watch your back, okay? Sam and me will be there as soon as we can."

"I've got this, Dean," Castiel assured him with the hunter's colloquialism. Then he disconnected and gave Ryn a rueful look. "I promise I don't mean to be making a habit of this."

The lines of Ryn's face were tense, but instead of expressing doubt or regret, she simply straightened and went around to the trunk where she pulled out the katana Dean had let her have from the Men of Letters' armory. She'd apparently inscribed runes into the blade to make it more powerful against supernatural entities.

"The Book of the Dead is not something I thought I'd hear again," she said gravely.

Nor had Castiel. Last he'd heard, it had been lost. And good riddance. For it to be unearthed…

"Seems we have a mission now," Ryn continued, meeting his gaze with staunch resolve.

Castiel was momentarily taken aback by the inclusive pronoun and how readily it was used. It shouldn't have surprised him, though, given what they'd been through together recently.

He nodded in return, and they climbed back into his vehicle in order to set off and rendezvous with this Charlie. Before whoever was hunting the human tracked her down first.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! The site was still down this morning when I had to leave for work.

Dawn had tinged the overcast sky slate gray when Castiel pulled up in front of the cabin, his car's tires crunching over pebbles and twigs on the rarely used dirt road. The place looked old and abandoned from the outside, one exterior wall overgrown with shrubbery and the roof blanketed with dried pine needles. He put the vehicle in park and turned off the engine, eyeing the surrounding foliage intently for signs of encroaching threats. Everything seemed quiet.

He and Ryn exited the car and made their way toward the door. Castiel rapped his knuckles on the aged wood.

"Charlie?" he called. "My name is Castiel. I'm a friend of Sam and Dean."

At first nothing happened, and he wondered if the Winchesters' friend hadn't even made it to the cabin, but then he heard a faint scuffing from within, someone with feather-light footsteps that only one with celestial hearing would detect. Castiel waited as the nervous steps drew closer to the door, and then it finally grated open a crack.

"Y-you're Castiel?" the young woman with vibrant red hair asked warily. Her eyes were swimming with guarded fear, exhaustion, and tremulous hope.

"Yes. Sam and Dean sent me," he replied.

She pulled the door open further, expression shifting from tension to a flash of awe. "Whoa," she breathed, then frowned. "I thought you'd be shorter."

Castiel quirked a brow. Charlie wasn't tall, herself, half a foot shorter than Castiel's vessel.

She flicked her gaze at Ryn, standing just off to the side, and stiffened again. "Um, hi."

"This is Ryn," Castiel introduced. "She's a friend as well."

"Oh, okay. Are you an angel too?"

"She's a phoenix," Castiel corrected. "Actually, the Alpha phoenix."

Charlie's eyes widened, and Castiel realized he probably shouldn't have said that. If this human was like other hunters, she'd immediately categorize Ryn as a monster. Castiel opened his mouth to try to walk back his blunder, but was stopped when Charlie let out a somewhat breathless squeak.

"Like, a real phoenix? You burst into flames and are reborn from the ashes?"

"Something like that," Ryn replied carefully.

Charlie let out another 'eep.' "But, I thought phoenixes were firebirds. No wings?"

Ryn exchanged a look with Castiel, perhaps in amusement, perhaps in perplexity. Not that he knew what to make of this. "I can take that form if I want, but I prefer this one."

Charlie's eyes were still as wide as saucers. "That is so cool," she gushed. "And ohmygosh, you carry a sword too?" she exclaimed, gaze going to the sheathed katana slung across Ryn's back.

Castiel blinked at her in confusion. This young woman was certainly not what he had been expecting.

Ryn cast a wary look over her shoulder before lowering her voice. "We should talk inside."

Charlie gave herself a small shake, some of her earlier trepidation returning as her gaze darted wildly around the surrounding woods. "Oh, right. Yeah." She stepped back to let them in, and a strangled sound garbled in her throat as her face screwed up.

Castiel remembered Dean saying Charlie was injured in some way. "You're hurt?" he asked, stepping forward into her 'personal space.'

She started slightly as she blinked up at him. "Um, I got shot." Charlie reached for the hem of her shirt, but Castiel went ahead and placed two fingers to her forehead, instantly healing the wound. She was lucky the bullet hadn't hit any vital organs.

Charlie's eyes crossed upon him touching her, and after he pulled back, she yanked her shirt up to reveal the patch of gauze taped across her stomach. She ripped it off and gaped at the smooth, unblemished skin. "Is that it?" she asked in surprise.

Castiel nodded. "Your bullet wound is now healed. So is your carpal tunnel. You may want to continue wearing your wrist brace at night, though."

Charlie gazed up at him, and a smile broke out on her face. "Did we just become best friends?"

Castiel blinked. "Um…"

"Dean said you have the Book of the Damned," Ryn interjected.

"Oh, yeah." Charlie pivoted and bent down to pick up a knapsack off the floor. Reaching inside, she pulled out a tome that instantly sent a sinister shiver down Castiel's spine.

"Here's what I've learned so far," Charlie continued. "About seven hundred years ago, a nun locked herself away after having visions of darkness. After a few decades squirrelled away by herself, she emerged with this." Charlie held up the heinous book. "Each page is made out of slices of her own skin written in her blood. Totally eekish. According to the notes I found, it's been owned and used by cults, covens, and the Vatican had it for a while. There's a spell inside that thing for everything. Talking some black mass, dark magic, end-of-times nastiness. As far as what language it's written in, I'm thinking it's some kind of—"

"That book is pure evil," Castiel interrupted.

Charlie grimaced. "Um, yeah. I'm kinda wishing I never dug it up. But I just kept thinking what if someone else got to it first, you know?"

Castiel supposed that could have been a possibility, and understood Charlie's well-intended motives. "But someone is after you now?" he asked.

She nodded. "I don't know how they found me so fast, or knew I'd found it. And they are scary." Charlie set the Book down on a rickety coffee table behind her and snatched up a piece of notepaper from it instead. "They all have this tattoo."

Castiel took the paper she held out to him and examined the hand-drawn sketch of a crest with a two-headed bird of prey, wings and talons splayed around a shield with an ornate cross in the middle.

Ryn let out a curse in Russian.

Castiel shot her a bewildered look. "You recognize it?"

A muscle in her jaw ticked. "They go by Styne now."

"Now?"

"They are a very old European family," she replied.

Charlie snorted. "They had pretty thick southern accents when I tangled with them."

"They're spread out across the world," Ryn explained. "They're magic practitioners, and in the worst way. They used spells to create disease, destabilize markets. They even helped the Nazis before they came into power, and they profited from all of it."

"So, they're like the supernatural Du Ponts?" Charlie asked.

Castiel frowned, unclear who that was.

Ryn cocked a brow. "Um, sure. All the spells they used came from a book of 'unspeakable evil' which they lost nearly a hundred years ago." Her gaze landed on the Book of the Damned, lips thinning. "A lot of supernatural parties were relieved when that happened."

"And now these guys want it back," Charlie said in a small voice.

"They won't stop, either," Ryn added. "Even without the Book, they're powerful. But with it?" She shook her head and flashed Castiel a worried glance.

"Then we need to destroy it," he said, and reached past Charlie to grab the Book. The instant he touched its cover, it was like dozens of glacial tacks piercing his palm. Malevolent susurrations slithered through his mind, and he gritted his teeth as he turned toward the door.

"There's a spell protecting it," he ground out. Castiel marched outside and dropped the accursed volume on the ground. His hand and arm continued to tingle uncomfortably from the brief contact, and he attempted to shake it off. "Ryn, perhaps if we combined our powers? Your purifying fire with divine smiting might be enough to break the protection and destroy it."

"Worth a try," she said, coming to stand beside him. She held a hand out over the Book, and Castiel did the same.

But before they could channel their respective energies, a twig snapped, and three figures suddenly emerged from the tree line.

"Oh no," Charlie squeaked.

Castiel instantly stepped forward, placing himself between the Book, Charlie, and the intruders. One of the men had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and Castiel narrowed his gaze on the Styne crest tattooed on the man's forearm.

"Well now, missy," the leader said, his accent indeed thick with a southern drawl. "You've made us chase you halfway around the damn world. And I'm about run out of patience."

"How did you find her?" Castiel demanded. Sequestered in this cabin, Charlie was 'off the grid,' as Sam would say, and should have been safe.

Styne cocked his head at Castiel, roving an appraising gaze up and down him. "Not her, exactly. See, the Book of the Damned…" His eyes flicked to the ground behind Castiel's feet and up again. "It wants to be found. It wants to come home."

"That's not going to happen," Castiel growled, and reached behind him, summoning his grace and the might of Heaven. His palm glowed gold, divine power crackling against the edges of the Book's protection spell.

Styne lifted his brows, apparently unperturbed. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned. "All those visions of darkness contained within that Book, you think they'll just go poof if you destroy it?"

Castiel frowned, hesitating.

Styne's face cracked into a grin. "No. You'll be unleashing an evil greater than you can imagine. So why don't you just hand it over?"

Castiel narrowed his eyes on the man, piercing down to his aura. He was telling the truth. Or what he believed was true about the Book. Castiel couldn't be certain, which meant he couldn't risk it. He closed his fist, extinguishing the light.

Styne smirked. "Good call."

"Charlie," Castiel said, "go back inside." He slipped his angel blade down from his sleeve. A split second later, he heard the slight screech of metal as Ryn unsheathed her katana.

Charlie darted forward to scoop up the Book, and then retreated to the cabin's doorway.

The Styne leader roved a calculating gaze over them. "As I told the little girl, you can cut me down, but my family will never stop. And this ends with all of you dead."

Castiel drew his shoulders back. "I believe you have that the wrong way around." He surged forward, brandishing his blade against the unarmed man. Styne ducked under Castiel's swing, but the angel was quick to spin around and slice at the man's back. Styne didn't even let out a howl of pain, but pivoted and began to circle Castiel in return. Then he lunged.

Castiel wasn't expecting to be met with the force of a wrecking ball, and he staggered backwards until he hit the front of his car, pitching back over the hood. Styne cocked an arm back and punched Castiel in the face, which sent stars bursting across his vision. He lurched upward and rammed his blade into the man's shoulder. Styne cried out at that and recoiled. But then he reached for the hilt and yanked the blade out with a squelch. Leering at Castiel, he twirled the weapon playfully.

Castiel rolled off the hood of his car and tried to regain his feet as Styne circled him again. Behind him, Ryn was thrusting and swinging her sword, landing several strikes against the other two Stynes, but none of the blows seemed to be hindering them.

These were no mere mortals…

As Ryn lashed out at one, the other swept in and kicked out her legs, driving her to the ground. Her eyes flashed with fury and fire, and sparks ignited across her blade, whooshing into flames. The two lackeys pulled up short, and she leaped up to attack with more fervency.

Castiel waited for the leader to make the next move. When he surged forward and brought the blade down, Castiel caught his arm, barely stopping the blow's momentum. He then twisted in and around and smacked a palm on Styne's forehead, calling upon the smiting power of Heaven. Light blazed forth from within, and Styne's mouth blew wide in a scream as it exploded outward through his eyes. The air crackled with power, tickling Castiel's wings as they rustled in the celestial static.

The flames burned out Styne's eye sockets, and Castiel let the dead husk drop to the ground with a thud. When he looked over, he saw Ryn drive her flaming sword through the other thug's heart, and he, too, went up in a blaze. Castiel whirled, but the third man had disappeared.

Ryn yanked her blade out and inhaled sharply. The flames trickled down to slivers before winking out, and the halo of fire faded from her silhouette. She lifted her gaze to Castiel's, then glanced back at the cabin where Charlie was still standing, mouth agape.

"Did you see where the other one went?" Castiel asked.

Charlie blinked. "What? Oh." She grimaced. "Sorry. I was kinda caught up in that seriously wicked display of awesomeness there."

Castiel pressed his mouth into a thin line. If one escaped, he could report back to more of these family members and bring reinforcements. Though, it seemed the Stynes had a way of tracking the Book, regardless, which meant it didn't matter where they went, the Stynes would be able to find them.

Castiel moved his gaze to the Book in Charlie's arms, jaw tightening. With the rush of battle dissipating, the disquieting murmurs from the Book whispered all the more loudly to his senses.

Charlie shifted her weight. "Um, was what he said true? Will destroying the Book unleash some big evil?"

"I don't know," Castiel replied gravely. And until they did, destroying the Book wasn't an option. But they couldn't shore up against an army of supernaturally enhanced beings indefinitely, either. And they couldn't stay here.

"We should be ready to leave as soon as Sam and Dean get here," he said. The Winchesters should be arriving soon enough, and then they could all decide the next course of action.

* * *

Roscoe ducked back behind a tree as a black Chevy Impala pulled onto the lone dirt road that led back to that isolated cabin. He held his cell phone pressed to his ear, the ringing on the other end momentarily drowned out by the rumble of the engine. Great, the little bitch had even more reinforcements.

The line clicked. "Yes?"

"Jacob's dead," he said without preamble.

There was a pause on the other end, and then a sigh. "How hard is it to take the Book from one stupid little girl?"

"She met up with an angel," Roscoe bit out. He picked at a bloody tear in his sleeve, sneering at the laceration underneath. "And maybe a witch. I don't know."

"An angel?" Monroe replied dryly.

"He burned Jacob's eyes out," Roscoe spat. Adrenaline was still pumping through his veins from the encounter. It wasn't often he met someone or something stronger than himself. And he didn't like it. Jacob was too stubborn to know when to call it quits, but as soon as Roscoe had seen they were losing, he beat it the hell out of there. "And I- I saw these shadows…they looked like wings."

Silence again, and then a thoughtful hum. "An angel, hm? There's some useful spells in the Book if we could get our hands on both." Monroe's voice hardened like steel. "Where are they now?"

"Still in Iowa, but getting ready to head out, it looks like," Roscoe replied.

"Don't lose them," Monroe ordered sharply. "Eldon will join you soon."

The line disconnected.

Swallowing hard, Roscoe turned and jogged through the brush to where Jacob had stashed the car. Then he climbed in and started the engine, pulling forward enough to watch the road and wait for that Continental or Impala to make its way back out. Whoever these people were, they had no idea who they were messing with.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Sam was tense in the passenger seat as Dean guided the Impala down the back road to Bobby's cabin. They hadn't heard from Cas and Ryn, and had no idea if the two had found the place, or Charlie. Cas hadn't responded to their texts, and Sam didn't know if Ryn even had a phone. Charlie, of course, was off the grid.

But then as the tree line up ahead parted and Cas's Continental came into view, Sam finally let out a breath of relief.

And then he saw the plumes of dark smoke.

Dean pressed the brake hard and threw the car into park, and then he and Sam were scrambling out of the vehicle. On the other side of Cas's car, Ryn was standing in front of a blazing bonfire, her katana slung down her back and wayward strands of hair fluttering free from her otherwise tight plait. It made her look like some kind of ninja assassin. One with a slightly glowing aura contouring her frame as she focused intently on the flames. With a second glance, Sam spotted two charred bodies being devoured by them.

"What the hell happened?" he exclaimed as Ryn turned toward them. Her mouth was pressed into a grim line.

"Trouble," she replied.

Before either of them could ask what the hell that meant, Cas's voice called out from the cabin.

"Sam, Dean." Cas strode out, followed by Charlie. Sam's pulse jumped slightly, and he gave her a critical once-over, but she looked fine. Cas had probably healed her gun shot wound.

"Hey, bitches," she greeted weakly.

Dean immediately stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. "Hey, kiddo. You okay?"

Charlie squeezed back. "Yeah, I'm good. Cas and Ryn here showed up just in time." She drew back and flashed them both a smile. "Thanks for that, by the way."

Sam flicked a look back at the burning bodies. "Were these the guys after you?"

"Two of them," Charlie answered. "One got away."

"There will be more," Ryn said. Rather ominously, in Sam's opinion.

He frowned at her. "Who are they?"

"The Stynes. Nasty pieces of work." She narrowed her eyes on the bonfire, and slowly waved her hand. The flames flared with a tinge of blue for a split instant. There was a pop, and then they began to recede until they snuffed out like candles. There was nothing left of the bodies but charcoal and bone dust on a patch of scorched grass.

"These men were…" Cas cut off and shook his head in apparent frustration. "They were strong. Supernaturally so."

Sam exchanged a look with Dean. That didn't sound good.

"I guess they used the Book to, like, power themselves up or something?" Charlie suggested. "And that's why they want it back."

"Unfortunately, no," Ryn countered. "The Book gave them power, but it's not what they draw their enhanced abilities from."

Dean quirked a brow at her. "You know about them?"

Ryn nodded. "They're one of Europe's oldest families—the house of Frankenstein."

Sam's brows shot upward dubiously. "Excuse me?"

Dean scoffed. "Frankensteins aren't real. They're made up."

"No, they're real," Ryn said. "Mary Shelley spent a few nights at castle Frankenstein and stumbled upon their secrets. They went underground and changed their name after that."

"Why didn't Shelley go public?" Dean asked.

Ryn cast him a perplexed look. "She wrote a book. Doesn't get more public than that."

Dean cocked his head and shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

Sam snorted. "You haven't even read the book."

"I have…" Dean raised a finger in objection, but then quickly shook his head. "Seen the movie."

"The House of Frankenstein doesn't count," he rejoined. "It's not even based on the book."

"The only book we need to be concerned about right now is the Book of the Damned," Cas interrupted tetchily. "It is pure evil."

"The one guy didn't get away with it, did he?" Dean asked in alarm.

"No, we still have it," Charlie assured him, and patted the knapsack draped across her shoulder. "But the lead douchenozzle said that if we tried to destroy it, some horrible evil would be unleashed."

Once again, Sam's brows rose sharply. "Is that true?" he asked Cas.

The angel's mouth tightened, and he gave a reluctant head shake. "I don't know."

"Okay." Sam nodded thoughtfully. Now that he was caught up, he could begin to start forming a plan. "So we have to keep it away from the Stynes—Frankensteins, until we can figure out whether it can be destroyed or not."

"Except I think they're able to track it somehow," Cas added.

Charlie nodded in vigorous agreement. "Explains how they kept on my tail this whole time."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Of course they can. Well, I got that covered at least." He turned and made his way back to the Impala where he opened the trunk and pulled out a chunky metal box.

"Found this in the storage room," he said as he carried it over and set it down. "It's lead-lined and warded. If those guys are tracking this book, pretty sure this bad boy will take it off the radar."

Charlie hastily flipped open the flap of her bag and pulled out a leather-bound book that looked more like pieces of raw hide sewn together. The scritches of ink Sam caught sight of were red, too. A rusty shade that was actually kind of familiar for hunters… He suppressed a shudder.

Charlie set the Book inside the box, and Dean closed the lid and latched it. She let out a breath of relief, then gave them all a tired smile. "Thanks for coming, guys."

"Of course," Sam said. "Hey, we even have snacks in the car."

Dean hefted the heavy box off the ground, but looked at Cas and Ryn. "Yeah, thank you."

"Of course," Cas said, echoing Sam's words.

Dean cleared his throat. "You uh, on your way somewhere, or…?"

Cas flicked an uncertain look at Ryn. "Well, um…"

"We'll follow you back to your bunker," Ryn put in. "Until that thing is locked behind its warding, we shouldn't take any chances."

Sam quirked an intrigued brow at her. "Have you tangled with the Stynes before?"

Ryn shook her head. "Not up close, but I've almost been caught up in their destruction a few times. So believe me when I say I don't want them getting their hands on that Book again."

He nodded in understanding. "We'll see you back at the bunker, then."

Charlie followed Dean back to the Impala, and Sam sprinted up to the cabin to do a final check of things before locking up and joining them. Dean stashed the box in the trunk again, and then slid behind the wheel to start up the engine.

"You didn't tell me you knew a phoenix!" Charlie accused from the backseat, craning her head to keep Cas's car in view as Dean turned the Impala around.

"Well, um, we kinda only just met Ryn a couple weeks ago," Sam replied.

"She is _hot_. And I don't just mean because she can burst into fire."

Sam and Dean threw each other bewildered looks, and then glanced back at Charlie at the same time.

"Um," Dean started. "Ryn's kind of with Cas."

Charlie sighed. "I know. I should have asked to ride with them. No offense!"

Sam pinched his lips to keep from laughing. "No, uh, he means Ryn and Cas are together. Like _together_ -together."

"She's his girlfriend," Dean blurted. He shook his head. "And man is that weird to say out loud."

Sam snorted. It was weird, but kind of amusing.

Charlie lurched forward to lean over the bench seat. "What, really?"

Sam nodded, still trying not to laugh. It wasn't that he thought Cas incapable of having a girlfriend. Just…okay, before Ryn, it hadn't crossed Sam's mind _at all_.

"Oh. That's…" Charlie floundered. "Wow. Okay. I'm totally jealous of him, then."

Sam couldn't hold back a chuckle any longer, and even Dean's lips twitched, which Sam was glad to see. He knew his brother had been struggling with the idea of Cas and Ryn going off together and Cas not being around as much. But from what Sam could tell, this was a good thing for their angel friend. And they were still able to work on cases together, as today proved.

Yeah, things were working out fine.

* * *

Ryn's stomach was a knot of coiled tension the entire six-hour drive back to Lebanon, Kansas. The reemergence of the Book of the Damned and mobilizing of the Stynes stirred unpleasant memories of darker times spent in Europe many centuries ago. They were not a hornets' nest one wanted to go poking. She was a trifle irked that this Charlie had doggedly continued searching for that heinous book until she'd dug it up, drawing the Stynes' attention in the process. It would have been better left buried.

But, as Ryn also knew pragmatically, buried things had a way of resurfacing eventually. Better that champions like Castiel and the Winchesters got to the Book first, before the Stynes could. Still, they were potentially inviting a fight that would not be a pretty one…

Once they all arrived back at the bunker and the box containing the Book was carted inside its heavily warded walls, Ryn finally allowed herself to feel a measure of relief. She'd been half expecting an army of Stynes to assault them on the road, but the trip had been uneventful.

"You guys wanna stay for dinner?" Sam asked. "I was gonna go get Chinese."

"Oh yes, you have to stay!" Charlie exclaimed. "Post-victory feast and team bonding."

Ryn flicked a questioning glance at Castiel, only to find him doing the same to her, like he had at the cabin. He had said he'd take her back to Montana to check on her home, but that could wait a bit longer. And he'd spent the past week with her, so of course they should stay and spend time with his friends.

"Sure," Ryn said with a smile.

Sam's expression smoothed with relief. "Great. Uh, do you eat?"

She quirked a brow. "Yes."

"Okay, cool. It's just that Cas doesn't, so I wasn't sure…"

Ryn looked at the angel again.

Castiel shrugged. "Everything tastes like molecules."

"That stinks," Charlie said.

Castiel frowned. "If the food smells bad, you shouldn't eat it anyway. It could be spoiled."

Charlie canted her head and put on a pair of puppy-dog eyes. "Oh, you're as adorable as I imagined."

Ryn shot a hand up to cover her mouth, choking into it as Castiel simply furrowed his brow in confusion.

Sam shook his head and gestured to the Impala. "Yeah, I'll be back."

He headed out, and Ryn followed the others downstairs into the bunker just as Dean emerged from the back corridor.

"Book's all stashed away," he said. "Nothin' left for those Styne douchebags to track."

"I still want to do more research on it," Charlie replied.

Dean nodded. "Sure thing. But tomorrow. Tonight, we drink, eat, and be merry." He waggled his brows at them, earning a grin from Charlie and a flicker of a smile from Castiel.

The humans went back to the kitchen then to grab plates and utensils for when Sam returned with the food. Ryn and Castiel helped them set everything out on the map table in the front room. Dean also brought out a case of beer, and popped open a bottle as he reclined in one of the chairs and kicked his feet up on the table. Charlie asked about potentially upgrading the system, which Dean shot down.

"Nuh-uh. Remember what happened last time?"

"What happened last time?" Castiel asked.

And that led to being regaled with a tale of the Wicked Witch from the land of Oz. Sam came back bearing food, and then conversation shifted to Charlie's time in Oz, which Ryn found fascinating, and Castiel found utterly confusing. It was somewhat amusing to watch him trying to parse out that a work of fiction was based on a real alternate dimension.

"But, flying monkeys…"

Ryn started clearing the table when the food was gone, content to listen to the debate, which at some point, she wasn't sure when, had veered off into hobbits and dwarves. She drifted over to the archway columns connected to the library and leaned against one, stretching out her neck muscles.

Dean had gone back to the kitchen for more beer, and when he reemerged, instead of striding back to the table and heated conversation, he steered her way. He had two beers in hand, and held one out to her.

"Can you even appreciate alcohol, or are you like an angel and it takes an entire liquor store to get you drunk?"

Ryn arched a brow, and flicked a quick glance at Castiel. That sounded like another story she'd want to hear someday. She accepted the beer. "I enjoy a good vodka."

Dean pursed his mouth, seemingly impressed. "Alright, then." He raised his bottle in a half toast, and then knocked back a swig. "I do apologize for the nerd infestation. I keep spraying, and they keep comin' back."

Ryn's lips twitched as the roaring laughter and overlapping voices from the map room wafted over her. Castiel still looked completely lost over the topic, sandwiched between Sam and Charlie as they lobbed exclamations at each other, and yet the way they half turned to Castiel, encouraging a smile, prompting his opinion even if he had no idea what they were talking about, still managed to include him in their camaraderie. And his eyes danced with the warmth of the enfoldment.

"So, uh," Dean spoke up, voice quiet compared to the others. "How'd your trip with Cas go? You two officially an item now?"

She angled a narrowed look at him. He'd tried to sound nonchalant about it, but his posture and avoiding eyes were radiating the opposite. "What did Cas say?"

Dean shrugged one shoulder. "Haven't asked him yet. Though it's not like Cas is chatty Cathy to begin with."

Ryn continued to eye him shrewdly and didn't volunteer anything. It was up to Castiel what he wanted to share…what he wanted to label their relationship.

Dean rolled his neck. "You two are welcome to stay the night, you know. Or longer. Whatever you and Cas want. Unless you were planning to head out again right away…"

Ryn relaxed against the column at her back. So that was it. She looked at Castiel, Sam, and Charlie. She assumed the young red-head would be staying in the bunker as well. And it wasn't that Ryn was opposed to the invitation, it was just that she wasn't used to being around so many people in close living quarters. She'd been on her own for…a very long time.

"I wouldn't want to make you feel overcrowded," she said, though even she knew the half-hearted hedging was just her own projected feelings.

Dean shrugged. "Hey, the more the merrier at this point. And, we, uh, we have the room."

Ryn huffed out a frustrated breath. "I'm not used to…I'm used to being on my own."

Dean took a slow sip of his beer, and then nodded carefully. "Yeah, I get that. Growing up, it was me and Sammy. Sometimes Dad. Sometimes Bobby. But mostly just the two of us. For a long while." His mouth quirked as he watched his brother and friends in their merriment. "But families get bigger sometimes."

He ran a hand over his hair and cleared his throat awkwardly before lifting his gaze to hers. "I guess the question is, can you take the rest of us along with Cas?"

Ryn pressed her lips together. She didn't have anything against them. They were hunters, but they didn't view her as a monster. They were opening up their home to her, in fact, something Ryn had never experienced under the mantle of her own true identity.

Castiel felt like an outsider sometimes, she could see it. Yet he also belonged. Also fit. Into a unit that shouldn't have worked—two hunters and a fallen angel. But they'd made something here, made a home. And Ryn thought it might be something a phoenix might test for herself, if the invitation was genuine.

A glance at Dean's casual yet subtly awkward and restless stance convinced her it was.

"I'd like that," she said softly, afraid he hadn't heard her over the burst of laughter from the others. But then the corner of Dean's mouth curved upward, and he gave a small nod as he took a hearty swig of his beer.

"Hey," Charlie called, bounding toward them. "Game of Thrones marathon. Who's up for it? I haven't had time to catch up since coming back from Oz."

Dean shook off his earlier tension instantly and put on a bright smile. "Oh yeah. I want to see what happens to that dick Joffrey."

Castiel came up behind her with Sam, brow furrowing. "Joffrey Baratheon from _A Song of Ice and Fire_? I believe he—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Sam exclaimed.

"Dude, no spoilers!" Dean chimed in with equal vehemence. "And you didn't even read the books. Metadouche just downloaded them into your brain. So no peeps out of you unless it's a piece of pop culture you've experienced first hand."

Castiel blinked in bewilderment at the reprimand.

"I've read the books, but haven't seen the show," Ryn spoke up.

Charlie's eyes sparked with excitement. "Then we'll have to start from the beginning!"

"What, why?" Dean interjected. "They both know what happens."

"But they'll be missing the subtleties the show changed," Charlie pressed. "And I thought you wanted to give Cas a proper education in pop culture."

Dean grumbled under his breath. "It's gonna take us days to get through everything from the beginning."

Charlie beamed. "Exactly. We'd better get started."

Sam shot his brother an amused look, and the two Winchesters trailed after her as she apparently went in search of a projector to cart into the library.

Castiel turned to Ryn. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize we were committing to something so intensive."

Ryn shook her head. "I don't mind. Should be fun." She led the way into the library where Sam was setting up Netflix on his laptop.

"Hey, Cas, want to make a bag of popcorn?"

Castiel frowned. "But you just ate."

"Yeah, but you can't watch a movie without popcorn," Charlie called from the hallway as she and Dean reemerged with an actual old-school projector. "That's rule number one."

"There are rules?" Castiel said. "How many?"

Ryn couldn't hold back a smile any longer. Maybe she could get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But she won't, because everything will go to hell soon. ;p


	4. Chapter 4

Having a full house at the bunker wasn't something Dean would have ever thought he'd have to deal with, and yet it wasn't an inconvenience, or made him feel claustrophobic. The place was meant to house numerous people to begin with, but it'd been just him and Sam for so long. Since Kevin, anyway. Even Cas didn't usually stick around for any great length of time, not that Dean had never _wanted_ him to.

But after two days, it still felt good to have everyone there…it felt right. They all moved in and among each other with comfortable fluidity—Dean and Sam with their normal habits, Charlie raiding the Men of Letters archive, Cas and Ryn orbiting each other like two satellites caught in the other's gravitational pull while simultaneously pushing against it. Dean could understand their reticence, and knew they were still trying to feel things out as much as the rest of them.

Right now those two were in the observatory fiddling with the telescope and looking over the Men of Letters' star charts. They were apparently big on the whole stargazing thing. Dean wondered if he should help Cas do something sappy like name a star after Ryn. Though, knowing the ever-practical angel, Cas would probably point out the ridiculousness of such a gesture. Romantic overtures weren't really his forte.

Dean snorted. Like they were his, either.

"Sam," he called as he strode into the study room. "I think I caught us a case."

Sam looked up from his reading, quirking a brow. "Yeah?"

Dean leaned against the edge of the table. "There's a mention online of a murder a couple towns over. Victim's eyes were cut out. Janitor runs in just as the killer jumps out the window."

Sam stared at him dubiously. "That's it?"

"Well, the window was on the third story."

"Oh. Okay." Sam set a bookmark between the pages and closed the book. "I'll get changed."

Dean headed back to his room to do the same, donning his FBI threads so they could drive straight to the crime scene. And since it was close, they wouldn't need an overnight bag for the trip. He stopped by the room Charlie was staying in to let her know they'd be gone for a few hours. She was pretty absorbed in her research, and gave a mumbled "uh-huh," in response. Dean just shook his head and made his way back out to the main room where Sam was informing Cas and Ryn about the case.

Cas's brow creased. "Do you need help?"

"No, no," Dean answered quickly. "Me and Sam got this. It's a milk run. You two stay here and enjoy some down time." He started toward the stairs, only to pause and pivot, raising a finger to his mouth. "But, uh, not- you know. 'Cause Charlie's just down the hall—"

" _Dean_ ," Sam sputtered.

"Right." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "We'll be home for dinner, so, yeah. Be safe, kids."

Cas stared after him in open confusion as Dean beat a hasty retreat up the stairs to the garage.

"Real smooth, Dean," his brother muttered when they reached the Impala.

"What? You want them going at it just down the hall from our bedrooms?"

"God no! And thanks for that image." Sam gave an exaggerated shudder.

Dean was trying not to let his brain go there, either, but dammit, he just had to open that door with his big mouth. Trying to shake it off, he started the engine and exited the garage onto the gravel drive.

"We need to set some ground rules," he grumbled.

Sam was quiet for a beat. "So, you want Cas and Ryn to move into the bunker?" he asked carefully.

Dean shot his brother a startled look. "What? No. I mean…if they wanted to, we could make it work." He rolled his neck in discomfort. "Couldn't we?"

Sam's mouth tugged upward. "Yeah, I think we could."

Dean shook his head at the crazy turns their lives had taken. "We'll just have to teach Cas to hang a sock on the doorknob."

Sam made a strangled noise. "Ugh, just stop!"

Dean smirked at his brother being such a prude, but managed to push the topic aside for another time and get his head in the game for the case.

* * *

They went straight to the scene of the crime, which had been locked down since investigators had finished processing it the day before. The office manager was downstairs, and after showing him their badges, the guy led them up to where the college student had been murdered.

"Police told me no one was allowed in," he said as he fitted the key in the lock. "That didn't mean the FBI, right?"

"That's right," Sam assured him.

Nodding nervously, the manager opened the office, stepping inside just enough to hold the door open wide for them. Dean and Sam entered slowly, sweeping their gazes over the scene. The office was sparse, practically bare, save for a single desk and chair.

"And the janitor came in right after the killing?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, he heard screaming…maybe when her eyeballs were scooped out?" the manager added sardonically. "Janitor saw a man jump out the window, run down the alley."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Running? After, uh…falling three stories?"

The man shrugged his brows in response. "That's what it looked like."

Dean went over to the window and glanced down. That was quite a drop. "Security footage?"

"Yeah, sure." The office manager finally moved forward, punching in an access code to the tablet he'd been carrying. "Uh, but just one of them caught any action. Out in the alley. That's the guy who rented the office."

Dean watched incredulously as the footage captured a man in a white lab coat landing on the ground like he was friggin' Thor dropping out of the sky. Except instead of a hammer, one bloody hand was holding a pair of eyeballs by torn rectus muscles.

Dean let out a low whistle. "That's pretty slick for a three-story drop."

"Wait a second," Sam interjected. "Can you, uh, play it again?"

The office manager backed up the footage.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Keep going. Okay, freeze there." He reached around the manager's shoulder to slide his thumb and forefinger across the screen, zooming in.

Dean straightened as he spotted what must have caught Sam's attention—a tattoo on the guy's forearm. "Same ink as the Stynes," he remarked.

"How long was he renting here?" Sam asked.

"Signed a month's lease only a couple days ago," the manager replied. "Some sort of clinical trial using student volunteers. He didn't mention eyeballs."

"Hm," Dean hummed. "Well, I guess you're gonna ask about that from now on, huh?"

Sam shot him a dry look over the manager's head.

"Listen," Dean continued. "You, uh, remember anything else, give us a call." He handed the office manager one of their cards, and then he and Sam headed back outside to the car.

"So these douchebags can jump out of third story windows without a scratch," Dean commented.

"Cas said they were unnaturally strong." Sam's forehead creased with concentration. "But why would the Stynes be actually up to the eyeballs in murder? What's the connection?"

Dean shrugged as he slipped behind the wheel. "Well, when you take a few Stynes down, more pop up. I mean, how many are there?" Ryn had said their family was large and widespread. "Think it's coincidence them showing up so close to the bunker?"

Sam pursed his mouth. "Dunno. At least they can't track the Book anymore."

"Yeah. Maybe someone's throwing a hissy fit over that." Either way, the Stynes appearing practically in their backyard was a bit disconcerting. "Guess we keep an eye out for more victims without…eyes." He winced at the unintended pun.

Sam shook his head. "Should we pick up dinner on the way home? I vote pizza."

"Sounds good to me." Dean turned the key in the ignition and steered onto the street.

Sam called Charlie to ask what toppings everyone wanted, and the amount of vegetable fans outnumbering him made Dean question the whole Full House arrangement for the first time. He didn't even have Cas to back him on the meat lover's pie since the angel didn't eat anymore.

"Dude, seriously?" Sam snorted after he'd called ahead to the pizza place to make their order. "You look like they just killed off your favorite nurse on Dr. Sexy."

_Same thing_. "I'm surrounded by nerds and rabbit food," he lamented.

Sam rolled his eyes. "We still ordered sausage on one of the pizzas."

Dean pulled up alongside the curb and put the car in park. "It should have been _extra_ sausage with bacon." He turned the engine off. "But you know what, I can manage."

"Uh-huh."

Dean pushed his door open. "Be right back." He slammed the door closed and cut through the alley to get to the pizza place. The wait was only six minutes since they'd called ahead, and then Dean was taking the two very hot pizza boxes back out.

He pulled up short when he spotted a van parked horizontally across the alleyway, blocking it completely. Dean debated going around, but then the driver's side opened.

"Hey, you mind?" Dean called. "I'd like to get through here."

The man who stepped out of the vehicle turned, and Dean instantly went on guard. Son-of-a-bitch, it was the guy from the security footage who'd jumped out that window. He wasn't wearing the lab coat anymore, but his sleeves were rolled up to the elbows still, and Dean could see the Styne tattoo clearly in the glow of the streetlight he was standing under.

He took a couple steps toward Dean, eyes fixated shrewdly on the hunter.

Dean raised his free hand warningly. "Alright, hold it right there."

Styne didn't stop.

"I said hold it." Dean backed up a pace and whipped out his gun.

Styne finally halted, though he cast an unperturbed look at the weapon. "You have something that belongs to my family," he drawled.

Well, shit. "Who are you?"

"Name's Eldon Styne. And who might you be?"

"Not up for games."

"Neither am I," Styne replied.

A shadow moved in Dean's peripheral vision, and he didn't have time to swing his gun around before a figure charged out from behind a dumpster and grabbed his arm. Dean tried to wrench away, his finger jerking on the trigger. The shot rang out, but the bullet only ricocheted off the asphalt.

A second figure tackled him from the other side, and Dean went down on top of the pizza boxes. The first guy stomped on his hand, and he let out a sharp cry as his fingers spasmed open. His gun was kicked away in the next instant.

Dean threw his weight backwards in an attempt to fling his assailants off, but he only managed to unbalance one. The other threw a punch that caught him across the jaw and sent him sprawling again. Hands fisted in the back of his jacket and hauled him upright, and then an arm was snaking across his throat, trapping him in a headlock. He gritted his teeth and grabbed hold, intending to flip the guy, but the cold barrel of a gun pressed into his temple, stilling his movements.

"Hey!" a familiar voice shouted, and Dean was wrenched around to face his brother running up from the street. Sam whipped out his gun and took up a defensive stance. "Let him go."

"I don't think so," Eldon sneered in Dean's ear, dragging him back a few steps. "You have something of ours. We now have something of yours." He gave Dean a sharp shake as emphasis. "Bring us the Book."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "Not gonna happen. Now let him go."

"Okay," Styne said casually. "Or we could just shoot you, and then track down that pretty little red-head and ask her to exchange the Book. I'm sure you've got her number in your phone."

Dean flicked his gaze to the side where the other two thugs had drawn their weapons and had them trained on Sam. Crap.

Sam's nostrils flared as he took in the odds as well, and Dean could see his resolve faltering.

"Sammy, don't…"

Styne jerked his arm, cutting off Dean's air and words for a split second. He growled in response.

"Bring the Book to the Blackbird Motel in one hour," Eldon said. "Unless you want to have a shoot-out right here and now. Though I assure you, we aren't that easy to kill…and you are." He pressed the barrel of his gun harder against Dean's head as evidence, making the Winchester wince.

Sam's throat bobbed, and he lowered his gun a fraction in hesitation. He shifted his gaze to Dean's, eyes wavering with reluctance and fear.

"Just go, Sam," he ground out. _Get backup_.

A muscle in Sam's jaw ticked as anger crept into his expression when he shot a glare at the Stynes.

"Run along now," Eldon prodded.

Sam started backing up, and then Eldon turned and dragged Dean into the back of the van. Dean braced himself for a brief opening, but the door was slammed closed, blocking his view of his retreating brother, and Eldon hadn't even loosened his headlock before another goon threw a plastic bag over Dean's head and yanked it closed under his chin. His eyes flew wide as he bucked, trying to break free. Eldon held fast, and the bag fogged up with Dean's panicked gasps for air. His vision blurred for several agonizing moments before his lungs seized and everything went dark.

* * *

Castiel watched Ryn trail her fingers along the spines on one of the Men of Letters' bookshelves, pausing to pull out a hardbound volume.

"Wow, an authentic Northumberland Bestiary," she marveled, cracking the aged yellow, almost sealed pages and revealing an illuminated manuscript within. She ran her hand down the artfully crafted text and vibrant painting of lions. "You know, I was living in the monastery responsible for copying these at the time."

Castiel cocked his head. "In medieval England, correct?"

She nodded, turning a page. Her lips quirked. "I'm in here."

Castiel moved closer to take a look. Sure enough, there was a page devoted to the phoenix, a rendering of a firebird nested on top of a funeral pyre with tongues of flames rising up around it. He furrowed his brow as he read the scrawling script below the image that said the phoenix rose from the ashes as first a worm before it became a bird again. "That's not accurate."

Ryn smirked. "Neither is the part about the fall of the angels."

He sighed. Human historians rarely did get things right.

"Did you work as a healer there?" he asked. That was something Ryn had been doing when he'd known her in Egypt.

"Sometimes," she replied. "Mostly I worked in the library helping the monks translate Greek texts."

Castiel felt his mouth tug upward at the image that filled his mind at that. "You're a Woman of Letters, then."

She canted an odd look at him that suddenly made him feel self-conscious. Had he said something wrong? Her gaze shifted to take in the Men of Letters' library, the space between her brows puckering slightly as she seemed to be in deep consideration.

"I suppose I could take up something like that again," she said carefully.

It took Castiel a moment to catch on to what she really meant—staying here in the bunker. With him.

And _that_ made something inside him blossom with warmth. He'd enjoyed the past couple of days here with her and Sam and Dean, and even Charlie. It had been years— _centuries_ —since Castiel had last had the opportunity to relax, to not be in the middle of a war or on the run. He felt…at peace. Something he'd thought would forever remain out of his reach because of his sins and failings. To finally find it…Castiel didn't know whether to be humbly grateful, or afraid that it would all be yanked away.

Before he could ask Ryn what she was thinking, just to be sure, Charlie came bounding into the room with her laptop open.

"Are the guys back yet?" she asked.

Castiel gave himself a small shake as he reoriented his focus. "Not yet."

Charlie's face fell. "Oh, erm, well, I can tell them later." Her eyes lit up with excitement again as she set the computer on the study table. "So I've been researching the Book of the Damned, and I found an entry in the archives about the nun who wrote the Book, and it said that the visions she'd been experiencing was actually an assault by some great 'Darkness,' and in order to defeat it, she bound it up in the Book."

Castiel stared at her, trying to follow that rapid recounting.

"So," Ryn spoke up, "destroying the Book would unleash it again."

Charlie sighed. "Probably. But I can't find anything about what the Darkness actually is or means."

The outer door swung open with a grating screech then, followed by harried footsteps trampling down the stairs.

"Cas!" Sam shouted, voice an octave higher than normal that immediately set Castiel on alert.

He swept from the study into the map room, taking in Sam's harrowed expression and the conspicuous absence of Dean. "What's wrong? Where's Dean?" Castiel demanded.

"The Stynes have him," Sam let out in a rush.

Castiel's heart lurched. "What? How?"

"They ambushed him outside the pizza place. They want the Book, and if I don't bring it to them, they'll kill Dean."

"You can't just hand it over to them," Ryn interjected.

"I know that," Sam snapped, then paused to suck in a sharp breath. "I know we can't hand it over, but I'm not just gonna leave my brother in their hands."

"Where are you supposed to bring the Book?" Castiel asked.

"The Blackbird Motel. In forty-five minutes."

"Then I'll go with you and we'll get Dean back," Castiel staunchly assured him. He'd faced these Stynes once before, and now knew what to expect.

"Shouldn't we all go?" Charlie spoke up.

Sam shook his head. "I need you to find a way to destroy that Book."

"Um, okay," she squeaked. "But what if that causes something bad to happen?"

"Find a way around it," Sam pressed. "The only way the Stynes are going to stop coming is if the Book is gone." He turned to Ryn. "Can you help Charlie? You've used your power to break curses before…"

Ryn's mouth pressed into a thin line, and she looked uncertain for a split moment. "Alright." She skewered Castiel with her gaze next. "Be careful."

He nodded, jaw tightening. "Do I need to remind you of the same?" The last time she had removed a curse, she'd almost died. Or, technically she _had_ died. And Castiel did not want that happening again.

"No," Ryn said, "but I appreciate it."

"Let's go," Sam urged impatiently, and Castiel pivoted to follow him up the stairs. He dreaded the condition they might find Dean in, but he vowed to bring the Winchester home safe. Now that he'd finally found a place with his true family, Castiel was going to fight with every last ounce of divine retribution to protect it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear, the "Darkness" is not Amara or God's sister in this verse.


	5. Chapter 5

Ryn strode into the study room with the box containing the Book of the Damned and thunked it down loudly on one of the tables. "Anything?"

Charlie was frantically clacking away at her laptop's keyboard. "Okay, time pressure, seriously not helping."

"I'm not the one who put the time constraints on," Ryn replied, coming around to see over the girl's shoulder. She wasn't as tech savvy as she could have been in this day and age; otherwise she'd be helping Charlie do…whatever she was doing on the computer. A categorical search of the Men of Letters' archives, it seemed. Ryn hadn't realized the collection of lore had been uploaded to a digital storage drive.

Charlie let out a strained breath. "I know, I know. Sam and Cas will bring Dean back, right?" she asked hopefully, but before Ryn could think of answering, she was barreling right along, "Right. And then we'll all be safe in the bunker while I figure this out. So I just need to find my zen." Charlie interlocked her fingers and stretched, cracking a few knuckles. Then she made several attempts at steadying breaths, but kept letting them out a little forcefully.

"No mentions of what the 'Darkness' is?" Ryn prompted. "Not even theories?"

" _Nothing_ ," Charlie said desperately. "What if we destroy the Book, and something even worse than the Stynes gets unleashed?"

Ryn's lips thinned. Yeah, that wasn't something she wanted to risk. "Maybe we can make a show of destroying a decoy," she suggested.

Charlie straightened. "Do you think they'd buy that?"

In truth, Ryn didn't know. The Stynes had a way of tracking the Book, and without determining what it was, she couldn't say for sure if their method would also clue them in as to whether the Book had actually been destroyed or not. It'd be a gamble, but Ryn couldn't think of any better options at the moment. And now that the Stynes knew who the Winchesters were—and that they had the Book—they wouldn't stop coming after them. An endless wave of tin soldiers one right after the other that would far outlast three humans, a single angel, and a phoenix, even with a supernatural silo such as the bunker.

The front door grated open, and Ryn whipped her head up. No way they should have gotten back that quickly…

"Knock-knock," a heavily accented voice drawled.

Charlie's eyes flew wide in horror and she lurched from her seat just as three men came sauntering in from the map room. Ryn recognized one as the guy who'd fled their first encounter.

"Well, well, well," the leader crooned. "Looks like the little ladies were left at home to warm the hearth fires."

Ryn cast her gaze around for a weapon. Fortunately, the bunker had them in abundance. She snatched a curved blade off a display rack on the closest bookcase.

The man roved his eyes up and down her figure, seemingly unimpressed. Then he shifted his gaze to the box on the table. "Ah, let me guess, that'd be the thing concealing the Book from us."

"Get out," Ryn spat, even as she knew it was a futile demand. These monsters were tenacious, to put it mildly. She'd handled herself well enough against the two earlier, but one had fled like a coward and now she was facing three all at once. She wished she had her katana on hand, as that blade was reinforced with runes and sigils that were more effective against supernatural beings. And even then, the Stynes had proven resilient in a fight.

"Not without what belongs to us," the head Styne said in return.

The other lackey charged forward at that, and Ryn swung the sword up to slice across his chest. It sent him reeling back a step, but he recovered quickly and moved to tackle her. Ryn danced out of the way and spun, swinging her blade around to cut through sinew and bone. The Styne's head went flying across the room.

A shot cracked the air, and Ryn jerked as lead tore through her shoulder. She staggered, and whirled to find the other thug aiming a gun at her. Fire seared from inside the wound, but not her own inner flame, something different. She grimaced in confusion, and then Styne squeezed the trigger and another bullet impacted her abdomen. Charlie screamed.

Ryn gasped under the assault of pain splashing like acid into her blood. It'd been a long time since she'd been shot, and she didn't remember it feeling like this. She tried to summon her spark to regenerate the torn flesh and muscle and also channel into an offensive strike. There was a delayed instant before she felt it stir, but another sharp report preceded a third bullet ripping through her chest, and the precarious grasp she'd only begun to harness snuffed out under the shock of the impact. These weren't regular lead bullets…

She stumbled backward and tripped over a chair, crashing to the floor. The sword went clattering out of her hand. Her chest throbbed, and an astringent tickle crawled up the back of her throat as blood spurted into one lung. Ryn gritted her teeth and focused her senses inward. She could feel the acerbic pulses of something foul radiating from the center of the wounds, something that had shape and line…

Ryn's breath caught in her throat on a garbled curse; there was magic inscribed on the bullets.

She craned her neck around. "Charlie, run!"

The girl only hesitated a second before Styne aimed the gun at her next. Charlie bolted, and a bullet struck the column she'd just been standing by, sending chinks of plaster flying. She let out a yelp and ducked down the corridor.

Ryn struggled to get up as hot blood pumped out of her wounds. The head Styne casually stepped around her to get to the box. He unlatched the lid and flipped it open, and his face cracked into a minacious grin.

"There you are."

Ryn clenched her fist against her stomach, trying to staunch the heaviest bleeding, and sucked in a sharp breath as fire quickened in her veins. With Charlie out of the room, she didn't have to be afraid of unleashing the torrent.

Styne lifted the Book of the Damned and tucked it under one arm. Then he walked back to his goon and took the gun from him. Ryn urged the blaze to fight against the magic in the bullets and catch faster.

"You should have given it back when we asked nicely." Styne raised the gun toward her head and pulled the trigger.

* * *

Sam broke every single speed limit as he gunned the Impala toward the Blackbird Motel. It was on the outskirts of the next town over, and Lebanon was small enough that he could take the back roads without fear of running past a sheriff's car.

"What's the plan?" Cas asked from the passenger seat.

Sam's knuckles whitened around the steering wheel. "Kill them all?" He didn't care if more would just come to take their place. Right now, he just wanted to get his brother back and make sure these particular first class d-bags couldn't come after them again.

Cas didn't respond for a lengthy moment. "They proved somewhat difficult to kill the first time," he finally said carefully. Sam cast him a sidelong glance in time to see Cas's jaw working tensely. "Smiting was effective, but I won't be able to use that more than once."

Sam blinked. "What? Why?" That wasn't what he remembered of Cas's powers. Heck, the angel had one time smote an entire diner full of monsters.

Cas let out a frustrated sound under his breath. "My grace isn't as strong as it once was," he admitted bitterly.

Sam shot him a disbelieving look. Cas was telling him this _now_? "What are you talking about? Did something happen while you were off with Ryn?"

"No. It's- Metatron's spell used up a significant portion of my grace. What you recovered was enough to restore me, just, not completely."

The oxygen whooshed out of Sam's lungs sharply. "Your wings," he murmured, remembering how the shadows had looked broken when they'd first given Cas his original grace back. But then he and Ryn had their long overdue reunion and Sam and Dean were just so relieved that Cas wasn't dying anymore, that they all kind of just forgot about that little detail. Sam was kicking himself over it now.

Cas rolled his shoulder, seemingly almost subconsciously. "I'll be able to summon the energy to smite once, but a second time would drain me. Regardless, these men aren't impossible to kill. I suspect decapitation, a blade through the heart, or multiple gunshots would do the trick."

"Shoot 'em full of holes, got it."

"Any idea how many there are?"

"There were three who nabbed Dean," Sam replied. "But I don't know if there will be more." His stomach clenched with apprehension.

Cas nodded, and slipped his angel blade out to place it in his lap. "We'll have to act quickly. I'll clear a path to Dean."

Sam forced himself to inhale deeply, steadying his nerves for the fight. They could do this. They'd taken down bigger bad guys before.

_Right, like with a Mark of Cain and swallowing Purgatory souls and saying yes to the Devil_.

Shit.

It had started to rain by the time they finally reached the motel, and water was streaming down in sheets across the windshield, even with the wipers going. Sam veered into the lot and braked, squinting to see through the water logged window. A pit started forming in his stomach.

Without a word, Sam got out, rain instantly pounding against his face and neck and splotching his jacket. Cas came around the front of the Impala, frowning as he also looked around. He tucked his angel blade inside the front of his coat.

"Where are they?" he asked.

Sam's pulse ratcheted up as he swept a frantic gaze across the parking lot and across the street. There were no other vehicles, no lights on in any of the rundown motel rooms. The neon sign currently lit up with 'Vacancy' buzzed lowly above their heads to the left.

Sam pulled out his phone and glanced at the time. They were early, but that didn't offer any measure of relief. Sam had figured these guys would be impatient to get the Book back, and would be here waiting. If they were doing anything to Dean…

Sam shivered as rainwater trickled down the inside of his collar and started plastering his hair to his face.

_Come on, come on_.

Headlights finally lit up the tree line at the driveway, and a moment later the van from the pizza place pulled into the parking lot. It drew to a stop several feet away from them, and then a guy Sam didn't recognize climbed out of the passenger side. The driver was definitely one of the Stynes that had helped grab Dean, though.

Sam drew his chin up. "Where's Eldon?"

"My cousin had something to take care of," this new guy responded, also with the heavily southern accent. "I'll be handling negotiations."

Sam exchanged a wary look with Cas. It was just the two of them? Or were there more hiding out in the darkness of night? Not that Cas could read Sam's silent question; the angel didn't have the practice at nonverbal communication the Winchester brothers did.

"Where's the Book?" Styne continued.

"Where's my brother?" Sam lobbed back.

The man's lips curved upward in a sneer, but he took a few steps back and turned to slide open the side panel of the van. Sam stiffened as he spotted Dean inside, sitting slumped against the wall. His wrists were handcuffed, with the chain looped through a handle near the roof. Sam tried to blink water from his lashes to see whether Dean was beaten or not, but it didn't look like it. Mostly, his brother just looked pissed.

"Now, the Book?" Styne prompted.

Sam swallowed hard, and nodded to Cas. _Clear a path_. And if it was just these two, it'd be cake… "My friend will bring it over," he called.

Cas reached a hand up to his overcoat as though he were carrying something inside the fold. He was—his angel blade. He just needed to get close enough to use it to take out the Stynes, and then they'd grab Dean and go. Sam couldn't help feeling on edge, though. Why had Eldon changed things up? Wasn't the Book the most important thing to these guys?

Cas approached slowly, but once he reached the halfway point across the empty lot, Styne's stoic face abruptly cracked into a manic grin and he started laughing. Cas pulled up short, eyeing him guardedly. Sam's instincts were suddenly screaming at him.

"What's so funny?" he bit out.

Styne let out a few more throaty cackles before composing himself, though his face was still beaming. He spread his arms. "I know you don't have the Book."

Sam's spine went rigid. _Shit_.

Cas whipped out his blade and surged forward to attack, but he'd only taken one step when blazing red light exploded around him. Sam threw an arm up to shield his face, his heart leaping into his throat. The nova died out just as quickly, plunging the parking lot into darkness. Sam blinked furiously to clear the lingering spots from his vision, and when he did, the oxygen stole from his lungs at the sight of Cas sprawled on the pavement, out cold. Water was evaporating in wafting plumes of steam, and it took Sam a moment to realize the rain had apparently stopped.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, wrenching violently at his cuffs.

"Well now," a voice resonated from behind, and Sam whirled as Eldon Styne emerged from the trees, arms full of a large, open book. "I do believe that might be my new favorite."

Sam's stomach lurched as he took in the leather binding and red ink. Eldon slammed the book closed, and Sam saw with dawning horror the familiar wrinkles and lumps marring the dark brown cover. But how…?

Eldon turned his gaze to him and smirked smugly. "You boys make it so easy to draw you out, you know that? First with the murdered girl and now this."

"Sam!" Dean shouted again, and Sam spun back around to find the other two Stynes grabbing Cas by his lax limbs and dragging him toward the van.

Sam pulled out his gun and fired, hitting one guy in the shoulder and propelling him back a step. Headlights suddenly flashed in his face, and Sam flinched as another car came screeching into the lot and slammed on its brakes, cutting Sam off from the others. The driver leaped out and charged around the front toward him.

Sam tried to get off another shot, but the guy was fast and on him in a second. A fist slammed into his cheek, and Sam's head snapped sideways. He tried to duck the next swing and deliver an uppercut of his own, but it was like punching a block of marble. The Styne goon clocked him in the jaw again, and Sam went crashing to the ground and splashing in a puddle.

He shook the stunned haze from himself as Dean's shouts echoed in the background. Styne lumbered toward him. Sam tried to get his gun up, which he was miraculously still holding despite his grip becoming slick from water. But meaty hands fisted in the front of his shirt, and then he was being hefted off the ground and flung through the air.

His back hit the hood of the Impala with a dull thud, and somewhere in the back of his dazed mind he hoped it wasn't dented. Or maybe he did hope it was. Because then Dean was going to lose his shit and break free to kill these sons-of-bitches.

Sam could hear his attacker's heavy breathing, sounding every bit like the Frankenstein monster his supposed ancestor purportedly created. Gritting his teeth, Sam jerked his gun up and squeezed the trigger. The night air cracked with the sharp reports as he emptied his magazine into the bastard. Styne's body jerked with each bullet that tore through him, but he still didn't go down. Grinning madly, he took a stumbling step forward, only to fall face first into the asphalt.

Sam scrambled back, panting and aiming his now empty gun at the creep. The bastard didn't get up. Right, shoot 'em full of holes.

Screeching tires had Sam whipping his head up in time to see the van peeling out of the driveway. He scrambled to his feet and darted around the dead guy's car. The other Stynes were gone. Cas was gone. And Dean too…

Sam staggered under the shock, chest heaving with the rush of adrenaline and scattered thoughts of what the hell had just happened? The Stynes had managed to do something to Cas, cast a spell, it seemed. But how? Wait, Eldon had the _Book_. He'd used the Book of the Damned on Cas. Sam only had a second of horror at that realization before the implications hit him.

If the Stynes had the Book, then that meant… Oh god, Charlie. Ryn.

Sam stumbled to the Impala and clambered behind the wheel. By the time he pulled onto the street, there was no sign of the Stynes' van or where it had gone. Those bastards still had Dean, and now Cas, too. And Sam had no idea how he was going to rescue them. What the hell did the Stynes want with them, anyway? Nothing good, that was for sure. Had they known Cas was an angel? They had to, if they'd known to use the Book on him. And they'd known where the bunker was, probably followed Sam back there after they'd grabbed Dean.

God, he was such an idiot! Too worried about his brother to notice if someone had been tailing him. And the Stynes had gone through the motions of a hostage exchange for, what? Just to grab Cas too?

And what about Charlie and Ryn? Sam's heart rate started hammering into overdrive as he gunned the Impala back toward the bunker, terrified of what he was going to find.


	6. Chapter 6

Charlie couldn't get her heart to stop thumping like a wild rabbit that was being chased by a mountain lion. A southern fried, terrifying, mountain lion. She'd run—oh god, she'd run and left Ryn bleeding on the floor with those monsters. Not that getting shot again would have helped either of them. Charlie had careened down the halls until she came to one of the storage rooms, and then she'd locked herself inside and started tearing boxes off the shelves in search of a weapon that would work against souped-up Frankenstein creations.

Scattered items clanged across the cement floor with discordant clamors, and if one of those Stynes was coming after her, she was pretty much advertising her location. But maybe she could take on just one of them, if only she could find something decent enough to defend herself with. Metal glinted in her peripheral vision, and she snatched up the blade, only to discard it as a puny letter opener.

Blood was rushing in her ears like thunder. Where was a big-ass sword when you needed it? Especially in a place like this!

Charlie tripped over a decorative box as she scrambled toward the back of the room. Wait, was that a mace? She jumped onto her tiptoes to see onto the higher shelf, and yanked down the medieval weapon. The spiked ball at the end of the iron staff was heavy, but it was the best she could do. Hefting it up over her shoulder like a baseball bat, Charlie turned and crept back toward the door. Her heart rate was pounding too erratically to let her hear whether someone was on the other side, and so she took a deep breath to steel herself, and wrenched the door open.

The hallway was empty. Charlie inched her way out of the storage room and back toward the library. Why did it seem so quiet? She tried to make her footfalls light, but she could hear her own harried breaths echoing in the stone corridor. At the corner, she pressed herself against the wall and tightened her grip on the mace as she peeked around. There was no sign of anyone.

Dread filled Charlie's stomach, and she quickened her pace out toward the study area. She skidded to a stop when she found the Stynes gone, even the one Ryn had decapitated, and please, oh please may he not have gotten up without a head…

Charlie's gaze dropped to the floor, her mind first registering the overturned chair, and then an arm laying between the legs of the table. Her heart seized. "Ryn?"

Charlie shifted to the side, and shot a hand up to cover her mouth. Ryn was covered in blood that was pooling all around her, but the worst was the single rivulet of crimson trickling out of the bullet hole in her forehead. A strangled cry caught in Charlie's throat. Oh no. _No, no, no_ …

The bunker door screeched open, and Charlie nearly yelped in terror. Clutching the mace, she darted to one of the support columns and pressed herself against it, willing herself to breathe and force down her panic. Her palms grew slick with sweat, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she listened to the footsteps clomping down the stairs.

"Charlie! Ryn!"

She squeaked in shock and relief, and whirled out from behind the column just as Sam came sprinting in, hair and jacket soaked. He threw an arm up defensively, and Charlie blinked in stupefaction at the mace still in her hands. She let it drop to the floor with a thud.

"Sam?"

"Charlie, thank god." He scooped her up in a suffocating embrace, her surprised "oomph" muffled against his damp shirt. "The Stynes got the Book, and I thought…" He trailed off, and Charlie pushed away to look up and see his gaze directed at Ryn. "Oh god," he choked.

"They came just after you and Cas left," Charlie said. "Three of them. Ryn killed one, but they shot her, and…" She flicked a glance at the box that had held the Book. The lid was open and the inside empty. Charlie's pulse stuttered, and she whipped her gaze around. "Where are Dean and Cas?"

A muscle in Sam's jaw ticked as he visibly clenched his teeth, and Charlie felt the floor drop out from underneath her. She looked back at Ryn. "Is she…? I thought phoenixes couldn't be killed except by the Colt? They- there's no way the Stynes would have had that, right?" She hadn't gotten a good look at the gun, only noticed the shininess of the barrel when it'd swung her way…

Sam's throat bobbed. "I-"

He broke off with a gasp, and Charlie sucked in a sharp breath as fire suddenly spurted from the wound in Ryn's stomach, then another in her chest and shoulder. Lastly, her forehead ignited, and Charlie didn't know whether to be horrified or fascinated, because Mythology 101 said a phoenix burst into flames to be reborn, but Ryn was _on fire_ in front of them…

The flames crackled and spat, staying confined to the bullet wounds instead of engulfing Ryn entirely. There was a spitting hiss, and some of the flames snapped like whips in the air, their edges tinged with purple.

Charlie shot a nervous look at Sam. "Is that normal?"

He didn't answer, but a moment later Ryn let out a low moan and started turning her head. The flames glowed brightly, giving one last surge and whoof before fanning out like mist across her skin and dissipating. The bullet holes were gone, as was all the blood, save for what was already on the floor. Ryn's clothes were singed around where the wounds had been, though.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and then she rolled over to push herself up onto her elbows with a pained grunt.

"Hey, hey," Sam sputtered, rushing over to kneel next to her. "You okay?" His hands hovered as though unsure whether to touch her, even though she wasn't currently on fire anymore.

Ryn made a garbled noise in response, and nearly pitched forward, so Sam finally shot a hand out to grip her shoulder. She gasped, and rocked back in his stabilizing grip. "Ungh, magic bullets sure pack a punch."

"What?"

Ryn lifted a hand to her chest and grimaced. "They had bullets inscribed with magic. I couldn't stop them." She jerked her head up. "Charlie?"

"Yeah, here."

Ryn ran an assessing gaze over her. "You okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine," Charlie squeaked. "Are you going to be okay?"

Ryn nodded jerkily. "Slowed me down, that's all. But they got the Book."

"Yeah, I know," Sam said. "They brought it to the exchange and…" He swallowed hard. "They managed to grab Cas, and now they have both him and Dean."

Ryn stiffened. "What?"

Charlie had known as much by Sam's face when he'd come in, but the confirmation doused her in a brand new wave of hopelessness. "What do we do?"

"Find them," Sam said resolutely. "Can you stand?" he asked Ryn.

She nodded, and he slowly helped her to her feet. She had to catch herself on the edge of the table, but still, after being dead only minutes before, this was a big improvement. "How did they manage to capture Cas?"

Sam's eyes darkened. "They used a spell from the Book."

"Dammit," Ryn swore under her breath.

"I'm sorry," Charlie blurted, earning startled looks from both of them. "I ran, and I should have stayed and fought—"

"They would have killed you," Ryn interrupted.

"Yeah, Charlie, it wasn't your fault," Sam chimed in, then turned to Ryn. "It wasn't yours, either. None of us were prepared for these guys. But the three of us are still here, and we will find Dean and Cas and get them back." He raised his brows as though asking them for a similar pledge.

Charlie lifted her chin. "Where do we start?"

"Security footage from the motel," Sam replied. "We track the van they were driving."

"Got it." Charlie headed for her laptop and immediately set to hacking into the Blackbird Motel's digital storage for security feeds.

"I'm gonna change," Ryn said, picking at her hole-ridden shirt. "And prepare an arsenal."

Sam nodded. "Good. Hey, did you find anything on destroying the Book?"

Charlie gave him a regretful grimace. "No. Just that something bad will happen."

"Something bad has already happened." Sam shook his head in frustration. "Alright, first things first."

"Got it!" Charlie exclaimed, clacking rapidly at her keyboard. "License plate, checking DMV…vehicle's registered to the Styne family, housed in Shervenport, Louisiana!" She let out a puff of air; that had to be a new record.

Sam strode forward to look over her shoulder, then kissed the top of her head. "Atta girl, Charlie."

Okay, next step…she hacked into cell phone records until she found a carrier also listed in the Styne's name, and pulled up the GPS tracking in "Eldon's" phone, since that was the one guy Sam had identified. "Oh," Charlie peeped. "I think they might actually be _headed_ home…" The signal was on the highway making its way south.

Sam's lips thinned. "Then that's where we're headed, too."

* * *

Dean's head felt like it was stuffed with cotton when he started gradually coming to. God, this was worse than a hangover. He hadn't challenged Ryn to a vodka drinking game, had he? Because he was fairly certain she could probably outdrink him…

Reality slammed into him with a jolt as Dean remembered getting grabbed by the Stynes, chained up in the back of their van… There was something around his wrists again, not the cold bite of steel, but the inflexible band of leather. Dean jerked his arms futilely. Crap.

Blinking some fuzziness from his vision, he strained to lift his head and glance down. He was strapped to a gurney or something…

No, a metal slab. Dean gave his head a sharp shake to dispel the rest of its haze, and noted the somewhat fancy architecture of the chamber he was in. Multiple archways were framed in sickly sea-green tiles that spread down to make up the bottom half of the walls. It was enough to make him queasy. Or maybe that was from whatever those bastards had drugged him with.

A man with white hair dressed in a lab coat suddenly appeared over him. "Morning, Sunshine. Monroe Styne. Pleasure."

Dean grunted. Great, more dickbags. "Ditto," he rejoined. "I'd shake your hand, but uh…" He tugged at his restraints pointedly, and roved his gaze around. To his right was another metal table, this one holding a decapitated body. "Nice digs."

Monroe canted a simpering grin at him and stepped away, giving Dean a full view of another slab. His eyes widened. _Cas_. The angel was also tied down by his wrists, but he had a cloth gag cinched tightly in his mouth, and his eyes were cloudy as he gazed groggily back at Dean. There was a rune painted on his forehead in blood.

Dean yanked against his bonds. "What did you do to him?" Because there was no way Cas would just lie there languidly, held down by nothing more than leather straps.

Monroe arched a brow, then glanced at Cas. "Oh, just a trick to subdue things that are immune to the standard stuff."

Dean gritted his teeth. Shuffling drew his attention, and as Monroe moved further away, he realized there were several other people in the room—the three Stynes that had nabbed him and Cas, and a woman dressed up in a sexy nurse's uniform, complete with the stupid cap. Any other place and Dean would have been flirting with her. As it was, she was cleaning some scalpels and setting them out on a tray.

Then Dean's gaze latched onto Eldon Styne holding the damned Book of the Damned. How the hell had they gotten it? Sam hadn't brought it to the exchange…that much Dean thought he remembered correctly. He'd been knocked out shortly after Cas had been stuffed in the van with him, and things were still a bit hazy in his recall. But he did remember one of the other goons attacking Sam. And since neither of them were here that Dean could see…that meant either one or both of them were likely dead. Dean was gonna place his money on it being the douchebag, and that Sam was coming for them.

"What do you want?" he demanded. If they'd gotten the Book back, why haul him and Cas to wherever the hell this was?

"It seemed a waste to leave your body behind when we could harvest it," Eldon answered.

"When you what?"

Eldon grinned malignantly. "It's a family specialty…bioengineering. Surgical enhancement. And I'm not talking about nose jobs. See?" He pulled up his shirt, revealing a large surgical scar running down his chest. "Two hearts in here. Bunch of extra muscle, especially in the legs. Every man in the family's had a little something. Pretty much what you'd expect, though, given the family tree."

Dean's stomach churned at the horror of the Styne legacy, because all those 'surgical enhancements' came from _other_ people. Victims. "You mean the Frankensteins," he bit out, affecting an unimpressed tone. He still couldn't believe Ryn had been right about them.

Monroe looked up from the sink in surprise. "Well, now, how did you put that together?"

Dean smirked. "You have no idea who you're dealing with. When my brother finds you, you're gonna wish you never came after my family."

Eldon snorted. "We're not frightened of him."

"You should be. And of a pretty pissed off red-head." Dean paused, and then amended, "Actually, two pissed off red-heads."

"The witch?" Eldon scoffed. "No, I don't think so. Shot her full of witch-killing bullets."

Dean's mouth snapped closed at that. What? What witch…? Wait, did they think _Ryn_ was a witch? Well, why not? There was no reason for them to suspect she was a phoenix. But, when would Eldon have had the chance to shoot her…? When they'd somehow gotten their hands on the Book? Dean's chest tightened. Shit, then what about Charlie?

He glanced at Cas, whose eyes had widened in alarm, but he still looked too out of it to make any effort at fighting back. Dean gave himself a sharp mental shake. No, Eldon was wrong.

"She's not a witch," Dean ground out, as much a warning to the Stynes as an assurance to Cas that Ryn was _fine_ ; she had to be. Because witch-killing bullets were meant for _witches_ , not phoenixes. "And they will find you."

Eldon shrugged impassively. "Yeah, well…as mighty as I'm sure your little family is, mine is a juggernaut. We're not ordinary men. We're Spartans."

Dean glanced to his other side at the headless corpse whose arm had the family tattoo. "But you aren't immortal."

"No," Monroe spoke up, voice tight with barely restrained impatience. "Not at the moment, anyway. You see, with the Book back at our disposal, it opens up a whole world of possibilities." He slipped his hand into a latex glove, wiggling his fingers to get a secure fit and then snapping the rim around his wrist. "The first of which—harvesting an angel's grace."

Dean felt as though all the oxygen just got punched from his lungs. _What?_

Cas's pupils dilated even further as he watched Monroe pick a scalpel off the tray the nurse had wheeled over.

Oh, _hell_ no. They were going to cut out Cas's grace?

Eldon opened the Book of the Damned to a page he'd apparently bookmarked, and went to stand at the foot of the metal slab. Cas finally started to struggle, but his attempts were feeble at best, and it only served to increase his ragged breathing to the point his eyelids started fluttering rapidly as though he were on the verge of passing out.

Dean strained against the leather straps holding him down, spittle flying from his lips as he poured every ounce of strength into snapping them free. But he couldn't do it. "Stay away from him!" he snarled.

Monroe ignored him as he leaned down to undo the top two buttons of Cas's shirt and push the fabric away. Cas tried to thrash away from him, and one of the other Stynes came over to clamp his hands on the sides of Cas's head to hold him still. Monroe lifted the scalpel and brought the edge to the hollow in Cas's throat, right above his clavicle, and made an incision. Just a small one, and Cas didn't even make a sound at the mundane steel cutting his flesh. Dean almost allowed himself a breath of relief, because the Stynes didn't have an angel blade.

But then Monroe lifted the scalpel to his own throat and carved a similar incision at the base of his neck. He set the blood-tinged utensil down and took the Book from Eldon.

"Now, let's see here…" He began to read a spell from the Book, and Dean felt the hairs on his forearms prickle. Cas let out a guttural cry from behind the gag, and the wound in his neck started to glow faint blue. A tiny wisp trickled upward, like gossamer mist floating up to Monroe and settling over his throat. The man's eyes gleamed.

Dean started thrashing against his restraints and spitting curses at them. Dammit, he needed to get free!

The nurse came over and slipped a cloth gag between his teeth, and no amount of bucking could prevent her from tying the knot tightly behind his head, cutting off his shouts. Then she moved to the medical tray and picked up a syringe, casually measuring out some sickly yellow liquid as though her boss wasn't siphoning the life out of someone three feet away. Cas's limbs had gone rigid, locked in spasms as the Book's dark magic dug into his essence and ripped it free, layer by thin layer.

And all Dean could do was watch helplessly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another mean cliffie! And only one more chapter to go. But we'll jump right into the next story in this verse. ;)


	7. Chapter 7

Sam maintained a tight grip on the Impala's steering wheel as it revved down the highway. Charlie was in the passenger seat, still monitoring Eldon's cell phone for his GPS signal, which had in fact returned to the Stynes' hometown. The douchebags only had a couple hours' lead on them, and Sam hoped it wasn't enough to get Dean and Cas in even worse trouble.

Wind thwacked the side of the car where Sam had cracked the windows, but the cabin still smelled like burnt ozone from Ryn doing her fire thing in the backseat. She'd grabbed a long dagger for Charlie and a machete for Sam, and was currently etching runes into the blades with a smoldering finger.

Charlie kept glancing over her shoulder at the work. "That is wicked cool. What do those symbols mean, anyway?"

"They reinforce the tensile strength in the metal," Ryn replied. "This one I'm marking now makes it resistant to magic."

Sam flicked his gaze to the rearview mirror. "But the Stynes will still be tough to take down," he checked. Cas had more or less said so when they'd gone to try and rescue Dean.

Ryn's mouth pressed into a thin line. "Yes. But these will help."

Sam nodded. He'd take everything he could get.

When they finally arrived at the Styne house, Sam's stomach knotted with apprehension. It was a mansion. And based on what the Stynes had said about them being legion, he wondered if the entire place was teeming with Frankenstein soldiers.

The three of them climbed out of the car, and Sam went around to open the trunk. He grabbed two guns from the stash, checking their chambers and then handing one to Charlie.

"So," she said nervously, tucking the gun in her waistband. "What's the plan?"

Ryn passed her the dagger, then handed Sam the machete. The runes were still glowing with slight heat from the forging.

Ryn unsheathed her katana. "I plan to break down the front door."

With that, she set off across the lawn. Sam clenched his jaw and hurried after her.

"Oh, okay," Charlie said on his heels. "Good plan."

Fortunately, there was a lot of sculpted shrubbery around the large yard, which gave them cover as they approached the door. Sam spotted a guard out front, but before he could devise a plan of attack, Ryn had leaped over the balustrade and clamped her hands around the guy's head. With one deft twist, she snapped his neck.

Sam raised his brows incredulously.

Ryn shrugged. "When in doubt, sever the spinal cord."

Yeah…yeah, that was a good approach.

She stepped up to the front door and tested the handle. Unlocked. These guys seemed pretty confident in their fortress. Maybe they had every reason to be. But they'd never messed with a Winchester before. And as far as Sam was concerned, they wouldn't live long enough to regret it.

Ryn pushed the door open carefully and ventured into the foyer. As soon as Sam and Charlie also stepped inside, two more guards came charging out from an adjoining parlor. Ryn surged forward to meet the first head-on, and Sam swung his machete at the second. The magic-infused blade cut through flesh and bone like it was butter, and the goon's head went flying. Ryn skewered the other through the heart, which was apparently just as effective.

Movement above caught Sam's attention, and he whipped his head up as a third thug appeared on the landing at the top of the stairs—carrying a P-90 sub machine gun. Sam's heart flew into his throat, but just as the Styne raised his weapon to riddle them full of holes, Ryn's hand ignited with a whomp, and she shot a fire ball through the air. It struck the guard dead center, instantly lighting him up like a torch. He screamed and thrashed, tripping over the top step and tumbling down to the first floor. Ryn stepped in and ended his agony with a swift guillotine slice, and then waved her hands over the flames to extinguish them.

Sam glanced at Charlie and noticed her face scrunched up in horror. He quickly put himself on her right to shield her from the view of the half burned dead guy, and ushered her past the stairs and after Ryn, who was moving through the house like an avenging assassin on a mission. The problem was, the place was huge, and they had no idea where Dean and Cas were being kept…if they were even here at all.

Sam stormed past a hallway just as a figure darted out of it. He whirled and lashed out to grab the guy's shirt before he could escape, and swung him around to slam his back against the wall. Sam had his machete up and at the kid's throat before he registered that it was a _kid_.

"Please don't hurt me!" he bleated.

Sam jolted, and loosened his grip just a smidgen as he took in the young man's mop of brown hair and nerdy glasses. "You a Styne?" he demanded.

The kid winced, either from Sam's tone of voice, his harsh grip, or something else. "N-no," he stuttered. "I'm not one of them. Okay, I hate my family! See, look!" He frantically tugged up the bottom of his shirt, careful not to knick his hand on the machete still hovering across his chest. "No stitches! I'm not like them, I promise."

Sam hesitated, and then pressed his blade closer to the kid's throat. "Where's my brother?"

He squeezed his eyes close, tears practically leaking from the corners. "Basement. First door around the corner. The lab's down there. That's- that's where they take their specimens." He cringed at the word, and Sam was inclined to believe that this poor, wretched dweeb really did wish he hadn't been born to his hideous family.

Sam released him and stepped back. "Run," was all he said.

The kid gasped and sputtered, casting a frightened look at each of them before he stumbled away from the wall and took off down the corridor.

Ryn was already heading around the corner, and Sam and Charlie jogged to catch up. At the first door like the kid had said, Ryn barged in, only to pull up short at the scene before them. It was a lab alright, and Dean and Cas were laying on metal autopsy slabs. Both were gagged, but Dean made a garbled noise when his wide eyes met Sam's.

Cas, on the other hand, had his eyes squeezed shut as blue light trickled up from his throat and over to a man dressed in a doctor's coat. He was holding the Book of the Damned.

Sam didn't need to know what they were doing to know that it was bad, and he and Ryn charged forward instantly while Charlie made a beeline for Dean. The other Stynes, whom Sam recognized, looked stunned for a split second longer before they swarmed around the table to intercept them.

Ryn dodged left, spinning around the one and delivering a roundhouse kick to the doctor that sent him flying away from Cas. Then she whirled back to take on the other guy.

Eldon lunged at Sam, and he swung his machete, but the souped-up Styne ducked under the blade and drove a fist into Sam's stomach. He nearly doubled over choking. A karate chop to his back drove the last of the oxygen from his lungs, and then Eldon was wrenching the blade from Sam's grip. Hands wrapped around his throat next, and Sam clawed at Eldon's fingers in an effort to break free. But the guy was too strong.

There was a flash of red hair, and Charlie swooped in from behind to stab Eldon with her dagger. He arched his back and let out an enraged bellow, but released Sam, who nearly dropped to his knees as he gasped raggedly for air.

Eldon took a lumbering step toward Charlie as she retreated back near Dean. She'd apparently gotten one of Dean's hands free just before, because he quickly loosed the other strap and was then lurching off the slab, snatching a scalpel off a nearby medical tray in one fluid movement and stabbing Eldon in the throat with it. A gargled gasp issued from his mouth, but he wasn't going down yet. Sam grabbed his machete and rammed it all the way through Eldon's back and out his chest. He yanked the blade out with a squelch, and the Frankenstein monster finally crumpled. Dean ripped the gag out of his mouth and spun around.

Sam followed his gaze, and found that Ryn had killed the other Styne, leaving her facing down the one in the lab coat. He had a bloody gash across his chest that Sam was guessing was courtesy of Ryn, but then blue wisps of light fizzled over the laceration, healing it. Sam's heart stuttered, and he shot his gaze to Cas, who was still tied down on the slab and had grace seeping out from a cut in his neck.

The last Styne standing glowered at them with blazing fury. "You killed my sons."

Before Sam could react, the doctor launched himself at Ryn, grabbing her wrist mid-swing and torquing it until she cried out and dropped her katana. Sam and Dean both rushed forward, but Styne twisted and backhanded Sam so hard he went flying backward until the empty slab broke his fall. Dean hit the wall a few feet away.

Styne turned back to Ryn and grabbed her throat, lifting her feet clear off the floor. His eyes glowed blue.

Sam pulled out his gun and fired repeatedly. His bullets were good old-fashioned lead, so they shouldn't hurt Ryn too bad if he accidentally hit her—though it didn't look like they'd hurt Styne hopped up on angel grace, either. His body jerked from the impacts, but he didn't even scream, or drop Ryn.

Her face was screwed up as she kicked futilely against him, but then her eyes snapped open, blazing with fire, and she let go of clawing at his hands in order to clap hers on the sides of his face. Fire burst from her palms and swallowed his head whole.

Styne finally shrieked and let go of her throat, but she didn't let go of him. Flames surged down and up, engulfing them both in a surging inferno. Sam threw his arms up to shield his face as blistering heat seared through his shirt and jacket sleeves. When a wash of cold air buffeted his fingers, he chanced a look again, and gaped at the burned out husk smoking on the floor. Ryn stood over him, chest heaving as she worked to calm the fire still slithering up and down her arms.

Dean moved first, dislodging Sam from his stupor, and rushed to Cas's side. Ryn followed. Each of them flanked the angel on either side and unclasped the leather restraints. Then Dean hastily pulled his sleeve down over his palm and rubbed furiously at the rune on Cas's forehead until he'd gotten it all off.

Cas lolled his head lethargically, eyes trying to track them but seeming unable to focus. The slit in his neck was still weeping grace.

"Cas?" Dean's hands hovered over the wound. "Why isn't he healing?"

Sam frowned. Shit, what had the Stynes done to him?

"Um, guys," Charlie's voice spoke up tremulously.

They all turned to see her standing a few feet away from the Book of the Damned, which was laying open on the floor where it'd been dropped. The edges of the dried skin pages were beginning to take on a slightly blue aura…not unlike an angel's grace. Sam shot a panicked look back at Cas.

"But we killed Monroe!" Dean sputtered. "He's not absorbing Cas's grace anymore."

Ryn moved away and cautiously approached the Book, coming to a stop a couple feet from it, just like Charlie. Her expression blanched. "The Book is taking his grace for itself."

Sam's brows shot upward. "What? How? It's just a book!"

"A book with unspeakable power confined within its pages." Ryn flicked a terrified look toward them.

"How do we stop it?" Dean demanded.

Ryn clenched her fists. "Destroy it."

"But then we'll unleash the 'Darkness,'" Charlie said.

"I don't care," Dean retorted. "It's killing Cas."

"I'm not saying we don't," Charlie protested. "I'm just saying we have no idea what's going to happen."

"And what the hell do we think this thing is gonna do if it absorbs an angel's grace?" Dean countered. He shook his head, and lifted his gaze to Sam's. They'd been here before, caught between two bad decisions and no way out except through hell. Because either the Book was destroyed and the 'Darkness' was unleashed, or the Book finished draining Cas and took on a new, terrifying life of its own. In any case, it won, and they lost.

But one thing was for certain, though—the Winchesters protected family.

Sam turned to Ryn and nodded sharply. "Do it."

She didn't need to be told twice. Sam suspected even if the rest of them were against it, she'd have disregarded everything to save Cas.

Ryn inhaled sharply and closed the distance to the Book, holding her hand out over it. Her palm glowed orange before bursting into flame, and the Book's pages ruffled as though gearing up for a fight. The air prickled with static and the lights flickered. Charlie darted over to Sam, and he tucked her protectively under one arm as Dean hovered over Cas.

Ryn's fire crackled and popped, and then plunged down like a gushing torrent, striking the Book dead center. The cover jerked and flapped, knocking against the tiled floor as it seemed to swallow the flaming gusher. A high-pitched scream rent the air as the Book vibrated more violently. Ryn's eyes glowed amber.

There was a concussive whomp, and suddenly the fire surged upward in streaks of black flames. Ryn stumbled back; the ground shook. Sam winced as something hellish shrieked again, and everything made of glass shattered. Black smoke spewed up from the Book and whooshed out the now broken windows, slurping out into the sky.

Sam stared dumbly, but a sudden gasp from Cas had him whipping around. The angel's eyes were wide and panicked as Dean gripped his shoulders and blathered calming phrases at him. The incision on Cas's throat stopped glowing and slowly melded back together.

"Easy, easy, man," Dean coaxed. "We got you."

Ryn hurried over and reached for Cas's hand, searching his face earnestly as he continued to blink dazedly at them all, but already his eyes were clear and lucid. Sam's shoulders sagged in relief.

"Guys," Charlie squeaked.

Sam glanced at her pale complexion, and then followed her gaze to the window where a cloud of darkness was receding into the distance.

"What did we just do?" she breathed.

Sam looked to his brother, whose face fell with the realization that they might have just unleashed an ancient terror on the world. Again.

Dean glanced back at Cas, and squeezed the angel's shoulder. "I don't know. But we'll figure it out."

* * *

The purr of the Impala's engine was the only sound in the car as they made their way back to the Men of Letters bunker. Dean was behind the wheel again, with Sam riding shotgun and Charlie wedged between them. Ryn was in the back, Castiel's head and shoulders pillowed in her lap as she carded fingers through his hair. He'd fallen asleep to the Impala's lullaby not long after getting on the road. His grace had taken a beating. It was lower than normal to begin with, and Styne had managed to siphon some off completely. Ryn could feel Castiel's spark sputtering deep down in the core of his sternum like a tiny candle flame.

Her chest constricted. She'd almost lost him again. And in a bid to save him, she'd willingly participated in unleashing an unknown evil upon the world. Ryn nearly shook her head at herself. How she had changed. How Castiel had changed her.

She stroked her fingers through his hair, listening to the faint echo of his vessel's heartbeat. A vessel that was as much a part of his true form now as the celestial wavelength she'd first met. Ryn lifted her other hand to trace the line of his jaw, and his eyes opened to slits. She didn't say anything as he gazed up at her, still halfway caught in the lull of sleep. But Ryn could see past the dazzling blue and down to the blunted silver and dull sage of what had once been a brilliantly vibrant aurora of color and luminescence.

She hadn't mentioned it to the others when they'd first carried Castiel away from that horrid lab and the slaughter in the rest of the house. He wasn't _dying_. But he'd been dealt a grievous blow, and Ryn didn't know if he could recover on his own.

And so she bent over his head, lowering her mouth to his and gently enfolding him in a kiss. Ryn summoned up a spark, a splinter of her inner fire, and let it pass between them. Warmth tingled across her lips, and she pulled back as the ember faded in the back of his throat, traveling down to settle within Castiel's grace and infuse it with the warmth and fuel it needed to fan the flame.

His eyes had already closed as sleep had tugged him under again, and Ryn went back to absently stroking his hair. She gazed out the window at the clear blue sky. There was no sign of the noxious brume that had spewed from the Book of the Damned. Its binding had been cracked and crumbling afterward, and they'd left it to disintegrate into chaff.

Ryn felt eyes on her, and turned her head to meet Dean's worried gaze in the rearview mirror. He'd been casting glances over his shoulder at Castiel every several minutes, but hadn't spoken; she'd assured them he would live. There was a grim hush over them all at the knowledge and contrition of what they had done.

Ryn had no idea what they would be facing. Never in all her long years had she sought out a battle that could evolve into epic proportions. In fact, she'd fled from such events.

But she'd chosen this, chosen to save Castiel. Chosen to ally herself with an angel and a pair of human hunters who saved the world day in and day out.

And she wasn't going anywhere.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That closes out this "episode." Thanks to everyone who commented, subscribed, and left kudos! We'll go straight into "Fan the Flames" next and see what this version of the Darkness has in store. :D
> 
> Also, I know I've had a one shot for every Wednesday pretty much the whole month of March, which was crazy, but I'm afraid I don't have one this week. Sorry!


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